


stains

by sunnilee



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post Time-Skip, Rating for language only, and innuendo i guess ;), blue lions - Freeform, home girl has a type and i'm here for it, if only dorothea and ingrid got the supports they deserve, ingrid surrounded by flirty supports in sylvain dorothea claude and yuri?, ingrid teasing sylvain bc he's just so easy to fluster after he noticed she wears makeup, putting words to the feelings, she definitely asked dorothea for help on how to get him to blush from head to toe, their a+ support got me in my feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnilee/pseuds/sunnilee
Summary: The war is over and the Blue lions have stayed in Garreg Mach to help with some preliminary rebuilding before heading off to their respective territories.Over breakfast, Felix notices something on Sylvain that is decidedly out of place.Dorothea might be laughing in the distance.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69





	stains

Felix is suspicious. _Incredibly_ suspicious.

His eyes narrow as Sylvain unceremoniously plops down next to him in the dining hall with a pink stain on the collar of his shirt.

Felix squints a little more.

_And the corner of his mouth._

He sets his fork down with more force than necessary, appetite gone. He knew this behavior wasn’t anything out of the ordinary… _if_ they were still teenagers at Garreg Mach, attending lectures without having buried former classmates.

But once the war started, Sylvain hadn’t looked twice at girls, too busy throwing himself in front of blows meant for his friends. If anything, Felix could’ve sworn his idiot friend’s eyes strayed after Ingrid more often than not.

And that brings him to the worst part of all of this.

_Ingrid._

Had it really been five years prior, Ingrid would’ve gladly joined him in scolding Sylvain for his sloppy shirt and stained face. Truthfully, she would’ve noticed far earlier and beaten him to the punchline.

Now?

She enters the dining hall and sits across from them, feigning disinterest as she eats her breakfast with her usual enthusiasm. Occasionally, she’ll lift her eyes to meet Sylvain’s and raise an eyebrow, before continuing to inhale her food at record pace. Instead of making his usual jabs about her love for food, a blush burns from the back of Sylvain’s neck all the way to his ears and Felix is _seething_.

_What the hell is going on?_

Before he can make his mind up about confronting his best friends, Ingrid is done with her food and stands from her seat. She nods politely to Felix and her gaze drifts lazily over to the tense redhead next to him. Her eyes sweep him up and down, zeroing in on his collar and the corner of his mouth. Felix sees the familiar set of her jaw and watches her eyes narrow.

He holds his breath.

“More stains, Sylvain? You should really be more careful. Girls might start to think you like getting marked up like that.”

Felix hears Sylvain’s fork clatter to the table and his mind screeches to a halt as Ingrid turns on her heel and leaves them without another word. For a few moments, the two of them don’t move a single muscle. Then, Felix whirls around on his best friend, hand slamming down on the table. “What the fuck was that?”

Instead of seeing his best friend, he sees a crumpled mess covering his face, skin as red as his hair, shaking in uncharacteristic silence. The longer he stares, the more pieces click into place.

Standing abruptly with unfinished breakfast in his hands, Felix scoffs, “You’re both disgusting.”

* * *

_15 minutes ago in the hallway…_

“So, this unused lipstick… it’s for me?”

Sylvain rubs the back of his neck, blush bright on his cheeks. “Um, yeah. It is. For you that is. S-since you’ve been practicing make-up and all, I thought maybe you’d want more to experiment with—”

“And you bought me lipstick?” Ingrid watches the flush on his cheeks spread to his ears and bites back a smile.

“W-well, I figured you already had the stuff for your eyes because that’s what you’ve been using, but not really anything for your lips a-and then I saw it in the marketplace and I thought the color would look good on you—”

“Have you been looking at my face often, then?”

“W-what? No! I mean, yes, I have—but not in a creepy way! I just, you said you were experimenting, and I thought I should let you know how you’re doing, which, you’re doing great by the way—”

Sylvain’s voice dies in his throat as Ingrid uncaps the tube of lipstick and turns to catch her reflection in a suit of armor, applying it carefully. His eyes are glued to the path the lipstick traces and his mouth dries when Ingrid flattens her mouth to spread the pink pigment. She turns to face him again and his palms are sweaty. “How does it look?”

He hastily clears his throat and finds his voice again. “I-I think it looks good. Really good. Beautiful even.”

She takes a step closer and he takes one back, heart stuttering in his chest. Ingrid keeps advancing toward him and he keeps retreating, his instincts telling him to _run_ , like last time. He exhales sharply when his back hits the cold stone of the monastery wall and he realizes Ingrid is intent on cornering him like this without giving him a way out. He gulps at the thought. He presses himself further against the wall, to put some _space_ between them, but she’s completely in his face and Sylvain isn’t sure if he’s even breathing properly anymore. His voice cracks as she advances closer, “Ing?”

She hums thoughtfully and tilts her head. “Beautiful, huh?”

Sylvain’s breath hitches as she lifts onto her toes and softly presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering there as his arms remain rigid and useless at his sides. Just as she leans away, the heat that blossoms in his chest from her touch forces his arms to move. One wraps around her waist, bringing her back to him. The other flies to the nape of her neck, as his lips seek out hers.

She folds into him easily, and Ingrid is so, _so_ soft against him, her grip on his shoulders grounding him, that she was really here, in his arms. Her mouth moves with his, slow and sweet, warmth shooting down his spine when her hands cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. Blood pounds in his ears when she pulls back, eyes bright and mouth still parted. His hands tighten on her unconsciously when she licks her lips, desire prickling his skin as her chest heaves against his.

Before he can react, she presses a brief kiss to his neck, and then the collar of his shirt. His legs are trembling as she studies the stain silently, and he doesn’t dare breathe when her gaze moves to his face. His lips.

After a moment, she nods to herself and untangles herself from his arms, rearranging her skirt. “I do like the color, Sylvain. Thank you for the gift, it’s very sweet of you.”

Sylvain had felt a rush of cold air with her withdrawal, but his entire body warms again when her fingers touch her lips absently. “I think I smeared the lipstick though." Her eyes dart to his face and she smiles. "I need to go wash my face, but I’ll meet you in the dining hall in a bit, okay?”

He feels himself nod idly. Before she leaves, Ingrid reaches up and presses another kiss behind his ear and whispers, “it’s a good color on you too.”

Sylvain’s jaw drops and he freezes in place as he watches Ingrid hurry away back to her room. He doesn’t know how long he stays stunned in the hallway, but his feet eventually carry him to the dining hall, and he drops into a seat next to Felix. He barely registers the suspicious glare from his best friend as his mind tries to catch up to his body.

_Ingrid kissed him._

_She_ kissed _him._

He blinks rapidly and picks up his fork, staring down at his plate. All too soon (and not soon enough), Ingrid enters the dining hall and sits across from him, and starts to inhale her food, like she didn’t just back him into a wall and _accost him_.

Then, she levels him with a look that sets his entire body on fire, and Sylvain suddenly has a hard time swallowing his food. In a matter of minutes, as he tries to remember how to function normally, Ingrid is already done with her breakfast and stands from her seat. His gaze snaps to her and finds she’s already looking at him, particularly at the stains she left on him moments ago. He can feel Felix’s eyes boring holes into the side of his skull, but he can’t _concentrate_ on that, _what with the way his_ _heart is beating out of his chest_ —

“More stains, Sylvain? You should really be more careful. Girls might start to think you like getting marked up like that.”

Sylvain’s fork falls out of his slackened grip and Ingrid is already walking away with his heart in her pocket.

_Fuck._

_He’s in love._

…and he guiltily wonders if she’ll do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> ingrid: dorothea... i think i broke him.  
> dorothea: no, ingie... you gave him exactly what he needed.
> 
> \--
> 
> a light break from writing communication issues sylvgrid to cute in-universe sylvgrid ;). sylvain's lost items really gives a schemer a lot to think about, huh.


End file.
